


Outsiders

by Serafae



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Mild Language, characters listed in order of appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serafae/pseuds/Serafae
Summary: When everyone in the Upper West Side Precinct forgets about the severed head discovered at The Woodland Luxury Apartments less than 24 hours earlier, you decide to take the investigation into your own hands.





	Outsiders

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tendency to focus _so much_ on planning my stories that once I start actually writing, I don't have fun with it anymore. For this story I've decided to do minimal planning and just follow where the story wants to take me, instead of writing a six-page planning document like I've done for another one of my stories. e.e
> 
>  **Chapter Warnings:** Tense Shifting, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence/Gore

There was never a dull day at the New York City Police Department— or at least that’s what your senior officers had told you when you first settled in at your desk. Having spent your first two weeks doing paperwork and being on parking enforcement duty, however, you would beg to differ. As a rookie cop fresh out of the police academy, you had expected to ‘pay your dues.’ That being said, you didn’t expect ‘paying your dues’ would entail filing your peers’ reports like their personal secretary.

Perhaps that’s why you had jumped at the opportunity to work alongside Detective Brannigan. You were intelligent, resourceful and observant with an unwavering desire to help others— all things that made you a good candidate for the Detective Bureau. Still, it came as a surprise to you when Chief Anderson called you into his office and offered you the chance to work with (and learn from) the esteemed detective only two months into your tenure.

“Can I ask you something, Chief?” You had stopped, hand hovering over the brass doorknob, on your way out of his office. Turning your head to glance at the older man over your shoulder, you watched as he simply nodded his assent while sorting through the various files and folders on his desk. “Why me? I mean— I’m grateful for the opportunity but… why not someone who's been here longer, with more experience?”

Chief Anderson looks up from the mess on his desk, his stormy gray eyes meeting your curious gaze. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose as he seems to mull over your question. “Because I see your potential, (L/N),” he answers with a tone of finality and you know he’s not going to elaborate.

“Thank you, sir,” you had said before finally twisting the knob and stepping out into the bullpen.

That conversation had happened nearly a week ago, though it seemed much longer as you waited for your new partner to return from maternity leave. As you walked into the precinct on a particularly chilly morning, steaming to-go cup of coffee from a second-rate coffee chain in one hand and the other buried in your coat pocket, you noticed a statuesque brunette standing by your desk. Though the woman leaned slightly, inspecting a framed photograph sat carefully upon the varnished wood, she straightened out when she caught sight of you.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?” She inquired, offering you her hand and a polite smile.

“Yes,” you immediately answered, taking her outstretched hand with your free one and giving it a firm shake. The woman standing before you had sunkissed skin with a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and wore a white collared blouse tucked into a pair of tailored black slacks, a polished NYPD badge proudly displayed on her hip. “Detective Brannigan, I presume?”

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” The detective chuckled, releasing your hand to run it through her long fringe. “I’m Detective Kelsey Brannigan, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Though you had already inferred that much, you were still surprised. Given Detective Brannigan’s experience and the things you had heard from other officers around the precinct, you had expected her to be older. Instead of the portrait of a middle-aged soccer mom with three screaming children that your mind had painted, the woman in front of you was a pretty, young mother who looked to be in her late twenties at most.

“The pleasure’s all mine, detective,” you gushed. “I’m very excited to be working with you!”

“I’m flattered,” Detective Brannigan laughed.

* * *

Time seemed to fly by while working with the detective, a stark contrast to the days you’d usually spend doing paperwork that seemed to drag on. For the most part you simply accompanied Detective Brannigan, observing her as she worked and occasionally offering your input. Having just returned to duty after spending nine weeks on maternity leave, she hadn’t been assigned any new cases just yet— instead, Chief Anderson put the two of you on patrol to ease the both of you into it.

Most of the day was spent responding to calls and getting to know one another in the time between. Detective Brannigan was a nice enough person, though you were quick to pick up on the fact that she was a very strict and by-the-books type of person. For example, while many officers— yourself included— wouldn’t bother ticketing someone going a couple of miles over the speed limit, Detective Brannigan absolutely would.

“It’s the law for a reason,” she had told you as she settled back into the driver’s seat of the police cruiser. You didn’t argue with her, but there was something about Brannigan’s tone that had you believing she had only just begun. Luckily, a call cut through the static of the cruiser’s radio and you were off to an apartment complex in the small borough known as Fabletown.

Though you had been living in New York for years now, you had never heard of Fabletown before. You watched the city blur by outside of your window, a comfortable silence settling in the car’s interior. As you entered the town, a wave of disappointment washed over you. With a name like Fabletown you had expected the place to be idyllic, with pristine buildings and well-kept topiaries. Instead, you passed by a number of crumbling, decrepit looking homes and business— some of which appeared to be anything but idyllic. The only thing that had met your expectation was the number of businesses that had clearly been named after fairy tales, such as The Yellow Brick Roadhouse and Glass Slipper Shoes.

“Not what you were expecting, huh, Rookie?” Brannigan asked as she parked the cruiser right outside of an apartment complex. “We don’t get called out to Fabletown very often,” she informs. “Their mayor likes to keep things handled internally.”

You hum in response as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door, the crisp night air immediately chilling the interior of the vehicle as it filled your lungs. “At least it smells better than the city,” you mutter to yourself as you step out of Brannigan’s cruiser and follow her to the complex’s ornate metal gate. Crossing the gate’s threshold you were greeted by Officer Wachowski, the first officer to have arrived on the scene.

“What happened, Wachowski?” Brannigan questioned.

“It’s not good, Detective,” he spoke as he gestured for the two of you to follow him.

Your blood ran cold the moment you reached the apartment complex’s doorstep. A woman’s severed head lay in a pool of blood in front of the building’s main entrance, her glassy blue eyes staring straight through you. A chill ran up your spine and your stomach churned at the sight.

“Breathe, (L/N),” Detective Brannigan instructed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You didn’t realize that you had been holding your breath.

After taking a moment to steady your nerves, you turned to face your partner. “What—” Another wave of nausea crashed over you, your shoulders shaking slightly as you fought to prevent your dinner from resurfacing. “—what happened here?”

“I don’t know,” Brannigan knelt down on one knee to get a better look at the woman as she slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, “but I’m going to find out.”

Not wanting to seem incapable of doing the job, you took it upon yourself to inspect the crime scene while your partner focused on the victim. You could hear Brannigan asking the first responder what he knew as you surveyed the courtyard, trying to find any evidence that could help identify who could have committed this heinous crime or what could’ve motivated them to behead the victim.

Unfortunately they left nothing behind— not even the victim’s body.

When you returned to the detective, you found her speaking with a tall, disheveled-looking man. His brown eyes were wide and he looked as if he had just seen a ghost. You had assumed he was a resident of the Woodland Luxury Apartments who happened to ignore the police tape and come across your victim— until you heard Brannigan address him:

“I’m going to need you to come to the station for questioning, Sheriff Wolf.”


End file.
